


out of darkness

by ninemoons42



Series: Dragon Age Inquisition - Kiriya - Original Flavor [12]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Late Night Conversations, Literal Sleeping Together, Lyrium Withdrawal, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Nightmares, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Reassurances, The Chant of Light
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-23 05:04:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4864181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninemoons42/pseuds/ninemoons42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kiriya Trevelyan hurries back to Skyhold to catch Cullen as he falls back into the throes of lyrium withdrawal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	out of darkness

**Author's Note:**

> Title inspiration taken from the following Izumi Shikibu verse, "Out of Darkness": 
> 
> 暗きより  
> kuraki yori  
> 暗き道にぞ  
> kuraki michi ni zo  
> 入りぬべき  
> irinu beki　  
> 遥かに照らせ　  
> haruka ni terase  
> 山の端の月  
> yama no ha no tsuki　
> 
>  
> 
> _Out of darkness, yet shall I follow a path of greater darkness. From the mountain crest, far-off moon, give me light._

Softly crackling fire, and the faint cry of distant wolves, and the sleepy calls of night-winging birds, and Kiriya reached over to the small pot warming next to the fire and knocked lightly on its rotund belly, and judged that the water was warm enough to drink.

“Here,” said a quiet voice, and she reached over Cole’s shoulders for the sturdy, chipped mugs he was holding. It was a slight stretch to pour out the water, considering that he was sitting more or less right on her feet, but she managed it, and passed him one of the mugs. 

“I don’t drink, but you want me to be -- ” Cole faltered, and she watched him tip his head to the side. “Companionable?”

“It’s never any fun drinking alone,” Kiriya said as she sipped at the warm water. 

“I thought that was only when people drank alcohol.”

She laughed quietly. “You’ve been spending too much time around the Chargers, I see. Do you notice Dorian offering me tea when I visit him? Do you see Leliana leaving a cup by Josephine’s papers?”

“Not alcohol,” Cole murmured. 

“No,” Kiriya said.

“This is not tea.”

“I ran out of leaves, sorry,” she said, chuckling a little. She propped her elbow on her knee and cupped her chin in that hand, and with the other hand she patted Cole’s shoulder, making him turn around and eye her in the firelight. “I thought I’d packed enough. But -- you get my point, I hope.”

“You want me to stay warm. And to accompany you.” Cole blinked. “I am good company, I hope.”

She hugged him, gently. “Always.”

And she smiled when he reached up for her wrist with her free hand -- 

A grip that suddenly turned into something clawing, something desperate, and she dropped her mug in shock when Cole suddenly began moaning -- quietly at first, and then louder, and louder.

Rustling from the nearby tent. Iron Bull poked his head out, and she saw his eyebrows draw together, and then Cole dug his ragged nails into her skin and she cried out in pain. 

“Cole, let me go -- Cole, what’s wrong?!”

“Andraste’s tits, some of us are trying to sleep -- ” But the complaint died on Dorian’s lips as he followed Iron Bull’s example.

Kiriya hissed and tried to pry Cole’s hand away.

“Kiriya, Kiriya,” her name pouring suddenly from Cole’s lips, a familiar tortured register.

She went pale and ripped herself free, and clenched her fists -- and she went around and caught Cole up by his shoulders and forced the words out. “Is he -- is he -- ”

“Demons in his dreams, clawing and tearing and shrieking -- they want him -- they want his heart -- the terrible blue and the terrible red -- ”

“You understand all this, Boss,” Iron Bull asked, looking discomfited. 

She looked up at him and at Dorian. “Do you -- are you going to get mad at me if we broke camp now? If we tried to push for Skyhold?”

“That’s at least three hours away and it’s the middle of the night,” Dorian said. “Why do we need to be there now?”

And she bit her lip. Bright tang of blood on her tongue. What could she say? What would they understand? “It’s Cullen,” she said, eventually. “He has -- he has a condition.”

“And Cole is -- feeling it, is letting us know about it. I see. Well, no time to waste, then. Will you be needing my help?”

“It might come to that, yes,” and Kiriya shook Cole, gently. “We’re going to help him,” she said, a promise and a prayer. “We’re going to help him.”

“They’re coming for me,” Cole moaned, and then he went slack in her arms.

“Let me,” Iron Bull said, and he picked Cole up easily, and headed to where they’d tethered their horses.

Kiriya forced her breath out in a shaky sob, and threw the rest of the warm water over the fire, scattering the remaining embers; she picked up her armor and strapped her knives on, trying to fight the worry that clawed at her heart -- 

A hand, warm, reassuring. Clamped around her shoulder. She looked up into Dorian’s eyes, and said, “I can’t lose him. I just found him and now -- now this.”

“I understand,” Dorian said, and there were new lines around his eyes that she hadn’t noticed before, as he glanced in the direction that Iron Bull had gone. “Let’s get you to Skyhold.”

She drew him into a half-hug -- or she used him as an excuse to hide the tears that she couldn’t stop -- and she expected him to push her away, she expected a witty quip -- but all he did was smooth her hair back and shake her gently, and that was more than enough. 

“Thank you,” she whispered to him as he dealt with the tent.

In a few more minutes she was crouched low atop her horse and she was racing through the night, and the others were hard at her heels -- a path she knew, down and then up and up -- the gates, and the by-now-familiar surprise in the faces of the guards --

“We’ll get everything sorted,” Iron Bull said as soon as she swung down from her horse. “Don’t worry about us, Boss.”

“I’m buying you and the Chargers a round as soon as I can,” Kiriya said.

“We’re more than quits but sure, I never turn down free booze.” A gruff, short laugh.

The last she saw of her companions was Iron Bull carefully carrying Cole away in the direction of the Herald’s Rest, and Dorian following in their wake.

She gritted her teeth and went to the forge. Cassandra -- she had to find Cassandra -- 

A note on the rough-hewn table, pinned beneath the shaft of a sledgehammer. She had to squint at the minuscule, crabbed handwriting: _I have taken the liberty of moving the Commander to your quarters, where it will be easier to care for him. Come at once._

She barely noticed the stairs up to her rooms, heedless of the stitches up her sides, the sharp pain in her knees. Methodical footsteps: dodging the servants still walking the halls of Skyhold at this late hour, the night patrols -- 

Kiriya stopped outside her own door and took a deep breath, and the fear was back and it was gnawing at her gut, and her hands shook as she pushed her way in.

Cassandra looked up from the desk by the window, and Kiriya ached to see the rigid tension in her shoulders.

“You are here,” the Seeker rasped. “Thank the Maker.”

“How long has he been like this?” Kiriya asked, and she looked at the man in her bed. Crumpled sheets. Restless mutters. She watched Cullen shiver and shift, never comfortable, and she hurt for him, wanted to wake him and reassure him, wanted to hold him close.

“Not that long. We were in the courtyard. Demonstrating a few forms for the recruits. We finished the lesson. But he fell down afterwards and I thought it better to arrange for his care. I was about to send you a crow -- how did you know to come?”

“Cole,” Kiriya said. 

“Ah. That is -- well, I suppose.”

“What have you been treating him with?”

She watched Cassandra shake her head. “Just elfroot for the pain. He refuses to take the sleeping potions that Vivienne has made. I have been trying to get him to eat.”

Kiriya nodded. “All right. Thank you. You should rest now, Cassandra. I’m sure you want your bed.”

“And the Council? Will you need to see Josephine and Leliana?”

“There are some things we’ll need to discuss -- but it can all wait.” Kiriya started to take her armor off. “I’ll see to him.”

She closed the door behind Cassandra and -- 

“No -- no, please -- leave me -- ”

Kiriya rushed to his side and seized his hands -- and then he was clinging back, he was holding her in a powerful grip. Whispers falling fragmented from his mouth -- fear, rage, pain.

What could she say? How could she help?

 _O Maker,_ she began, faltering, _hear my cry: guide me through the blackest nights, steel my heart against the temptations of the wicked, make me to rest in the warmest places._

She paused, and tried to remember the next lines: _O Creator, see me kneel: for I walk only where You would bid me --_

On the bed, Cullen stilled. His eyes were closed and he was breathing less heavily, and he seemed to be -- was he listening to her?

So she cleared her throat and continued, as best as she remembered, and she cursed her own unsteady memories of listening to the Chant of Light. _Stand only in places You have blessed, sing only the words You place in my throat._

_My Maker, know my heart: take from me a life of sorrow, lift me from a world of pain --_

“Kiriya.”

When had she closed her eyes? When had she shifted onto her knees, her hands and Cullen’s still joined -- now she opened her eyes and looked at him, and though the lines in his face could only hint at the pain and the sorrow that were weighing him down, his eyes were clear. He was seeing her. He was _here with her_.

And he finished the verse for her: _Judge me worthy of Your endless pride._

“You’re here,” he added, and winced as he sat up.

“I am.” Kiriya got to her feet, shakily, and she took a fresh blanket from one of the chests, and tucked it around his sweaty shoulders. Cullen was breathing heavily, as though he’d been running up and down the Frostbacks in full armor. She wanted to soothe away the pallor of his cheeks, the sallowness beneath his eyes.

“You’re here,” he said, again. “I -- I fell. Cassandra propped me up and took me here and forced those potions down my throat. I was looking for you, and you weren’t there -- until now.” He looked away. “Such terrible dreams. Even if you asked me about them I wouldn’t be able to say a word.”

“I hurried to get back here,” Kiriya said, holding his hand again. “Cole must have sensed the worst of it.” She touched his temple, leaned her forehead against his. “Does it hurt?”

“The pain was everywhere, at first -- now it’s just this headache, I’ve been through it before -- ” She felt him pull away from her, watched as he looked wildly out the windows. “Maker’s breath! How much time have I lost? The soldiers need me -- ”

He looked as though he would rise -- but Kiriya jumped to her feet first, and put her hands on his shoulders, and _pushed_. Held him down. “They need you to be _well_ , Commander. You said so yourself -- how many lives depend on your success and on mine? Too many. Too many.” She sat down, and didn’t care that she was crying, now. “And we serve them better when we are at our best.”

“I thought I was better. I really did,” Cullen said, falling back onto the pillows. “And then -- this.” 

Kiriya remembered it, vividly. A lyrium kit flying and missing her nose by scant inches. Books falling onto the floor. Bloodshot desperation in Cullen’s eyes as he confessed: the fall of Ferelden’s Mage Circle, the obliteration of Kirkwall’s.

But she remembered, too, the dawning steel in his eyes. Lines of determination, lines of resolve. The decision to stay off lyrium.

He’d put his faith in her, then, and with nothing but her word to go on.

She would put her faith in him now.

“Do you want me to make the bed?” she asked. “You can’t be comfortable, since you look like you’ve been sweating. Up you get,” she said, encouragingly. “And I can get you a fresh shirt, if you want one.”

She watched him move to the chair that Cassandra had been occupying. A puzzled look on his face. She took that as a victory -- better that than rebellion or, worse, blank acquiescence. 

With fresh linens in place and the pillows beat back into fluffy shape, she washed her hands and face, and took Cullen’s hand. “You look like you’ve been fighting a dragon,” she said, gently. “And I say that as someone who’s already fought one of those. You need to get some rest.”

“You’re -- you’re going to bed. Just like that.” Still, there was no missing the heaviness of his footsteps, or the way he collapsed onto the sheets. 

She helped him get under the covers, and brushed away the drops of sweat beading in his hairline. “I am, and you are,” she whispered to him. “Tomorrow, if we’re feeling better, we can face the world again. Right now, I’m exhausted and you haven’t slept much. I hear the right remedy for that is sleep.”

“But the dreams.”

“You’ll get through them. I believe you can.” She reached out to him, stroking her knuckles against the inside of his wrist. “Didn’t we have a conversation like this?”

A quiet breath. A quiet pause. And then, bless Andraste, Cullen laughed. Soft and subdued, true, but it sounded like him. It sounded like he was really there. “Yes.”

“So don’t worry. You’ll get through those nightmares. I’ll be here when you dream, and I’ll be here to help you when you wake up.” Kiriya squeezed his wrist as gently as she could, and then rolled over to sleep.

Cullen sighed, and whispered, “Could you -- hold me?”

Kiriya smiled, and fitted herself to Cullen’s side, and put her arm around him. 

“Sleep,” she said, and kissed his shoulder.

She thought he heard her say her name as she drifted off.

**Author's Note:**

> I am also on [tumblr](http://ninemoons42.tumblr.com/) and my Dragon Age: Inquisition blog is [here](http://ninemoons42-inquisition.tumblr.com/).


End file.
